Guard Duties M7 ATF AU
by senorabutterfly
Summary: The boys go on vacation to the beach and get asked to go undercover. Don't own the seven or expect to profit from this story. Instead of a 'no food or drink' warning, I suppose this one might need a 'drool' warning...


Guard Duties M7 ATF AU

"Now this is the life, boys!" exclaimed a swimsuit-clad Buck Wilmington as he spread his arms out expansively to encompass the view in front of him.

His six companions paused to take in the sandy beach and turquoise water that was framed by palm trees. Women of all ages in everything from tiny bikinis to skirted one-pieces lay on towels on the sand or played in the gentle surf that barely made ripples as it washed up on shore. Men in swim trunks or cut-off jean shorts seemed to accompany most of the ladies, but there were a couple of clumps of giggling women who were sipping mixed drinks and eyeing the males nearby that immediately caught Buck's eye. Putting on his best smile as a pretty brunette looked his way, the well-built agent puffed out his chest a little, standing so that the broad shoulders and lean waist were showcased attractively above the dark blue swimsuit he wore.

The beach before them was long and wide, with several lifeguard 'shacks' set up along its length. Tanned, well-muscled bodies occupied the tall stands, their neon swimwear almost glowing in the sunshine so that anyone in need could easily spot them. All of them, both male and female, appeared to be attractive and in good shape. One blonde with long hair and an hourglass figure definitely looked like the right shape to Wilmington as he whistled appreciatively.

The rest took in the warm sun, soft sand, and inviting ocean.

"Gotta agree with Bucklin this time….ten days of this is gonna be nice!" added Vin Tanner with a smile of approval for his surroundings. The handsome sniper had actually given up his cut-offs and was wearing a pair of 'real' tan swim trunks with a cream-colored tee shirt and a pair of brown leather flip flops that seemed a bit out of place for the usually boot-clad figure. Ezra however had insisted that he wasn't being seen even on a beach this size with someone in ragged jean shorts and cowboy boots! Since the Judge himself had booked the team into an upscale resort, to insure that the whole seven went on their mandatory 'vacation', Tanner had given in and let Standish help him pick a few new pieces for his wardrobe. The sandy-haired sharpshooter had drawn the line at an expensive suit in fawn cashmere however. For one thing…wool in summer in Florida? And for another…what happened if he got food…or even worse, blood…on it? The team was almost as well-known for finding trouble, or having it find them, as they were for their exceptional record in the field.

Standing next to Vin, Chris Larabee nodded silently. Fitted ebony swim trunks drew attention to the team leader's long legs, slim rider's hips, and other 'assets'. While lean in appearance, the open button-front shirt exposed the well-muscled chest, and the ivory hue contrasted nicely with the tanned skin. He too wore wide-banded flip-flops, his in the expected black, and sleek dark sunglasses hid the piercing green gaze as he instinctively checked for any hidden dangers.

He always worried when the team went anywhere, since something almost always happened to at least one of them. And admittedly there was sunburn, possible jellyfish, and the off chance of even a shark or something similar, but they were all good swimmers and he and Buck were certified divers and Nathan had made sure they were all equipped with first-aid training that would probably surpass even the lifeguards' on duty. So a beach in Florida out of hurricane season seemed like a pretty safe spot to spend a few days just relaxin'. They could have gone to the California coast, but the judge had deemed that too close to home, making them easily called back. If the older man had his way, the seven agents would have been consigned to a deserted tropical island with no transportation to the nearest mainland for the entire ten days.

Ezra was peering around in approval. The beach was relatively free of trash and the sand was soft and a shining white that looked almost like snow. The warm sun beating on his shoulders was almost soporific, and he'd made sure his compatriots were properly dressed so as not to cause undue embarrassment…in their clothing at least. He cringed inwardly as Buck did a little backward dance when one of the nearby women pulled down her sunglasses to eye the handsome ladies' man in interest.

The gambler was attired in a dark green pair of trunks that he knew suited his coloring, and was surprisingly tanned considering the amount of time he spent either undercover or in dim bars and gambling establishments. Like Larabee he wore an open cotton shirt, his in a fawn color and of soft Egyptian fabric. A pair of brown leather hurache sandals given to him by Inez, the manager of the saloon they frequented, rested on his feet and designer sunglasses shielded his emerald eyes.

The shaded gaze moved to take in the rest of his companions.

Nathan Jackson was entirely respectable in a chocolate-hued swimsuit worn with a lighter mocha tee shirt that showed off the medic's impressive musculature. He had on brown flip-flops similar to Vin's, and chrome-rimmed sunglasses in vintage aviator style covered the dark eyes. His expression currently was a unique combination of anticipation and suspense, a look that seemed to be Jackson's own specialty when it came to down time with his trouble-prone teammates. While looking forward to some time just relaxing on the beach, he was also running possible injuries through his mind to see if he had enough supplies in the medical kit he carried in a duffle at his side.

Josiah Sanchez had already attracted the attention of a lady about his age that was stretched out under a bright red umbrella to their right. The profiler was still incredibly fit and attractive, and the navy swim trunks and pale blue button-front shirt he wore showcased his impressive build. He had gray Birkenstock-style sandals on his feet and a pair of plastic sunglasses from the dollar store since he wasn't the type to spend a lot of money on Ray-ban, Serengeti, or other name brands like Ezra, Chris, and Buck wore.

JD Dunne was the only one who wore any kind of print, and the youngest of the group had on a pair of multi-colored abstract patterned trunks that came to his knees, a burnt orange tee with a lighter stripe across the chest, and a pair of cheap two-dollar plastic flip-flops in matching orange. While the kid had two suits to his name, and both in a shade of brown, he tended to much brighter apparel in summer clothing.

Ezra blamed Wilmington's influence, since the explosives tech was known to have an amazing array of brightly hued Aloha-style shirts in his closet. In fact JD's swimsuit was probably a gift from the ladies' man, although possibly meant as a joke. And it wasn't that Buck wasn't neat and didn't look good in his clothes, but the man did seem to wear some eye-catching color combinations sometimes. He was currently unashamedly shedding a shirt with multi-hued beer bottles on it that didn't entirely meet with Standish's approbation, but the undercover agent had given in since it was better than the tee shirt with "ATF…I've got the alcohol and tobacco, you bring the firearms" on it that had been the man's first choice.

Moving his eyes from his team members, the chestnut-haired figure caught the gaze of a lovely redhead who was looking him up and down from several yards away. Giving his best gold-toothed smile, the gambler tipped his head in acknowledgement of the scrutiny.

A group of four or five ladies had spied the seven handsome men as well, and were giggling and whispering like a bunch of teenagers over a crush. Coolers sat on the sand near several people, and there were both beer cans and paper cups of what looked like mixed drinks in most of the beachgoers hands, since glass containers were prohibited. A few enterprising individuals had even set up concession stands of a sort and were handing out drinks to those who came up. Since it was a wet county and they weren't actually breaking any posted beach rules, it was allowed as long as no one got too rowdy or started harassing others.

The ATF agents gathered up the disposable Styrofoam coolers they had brought with them and started threading their way among the groups of beachgoers searching for a spot that would accommodate them all. Finding a place near one of the lifeguard stands, they pulled out newly-purchased tropical-print beach towels and spread them out, then settled themselves down on top. Shirts came off and beers were passed around, the display of toned, bronzed skin drawing more attention to the seven of them. JD was the only one who wasn't a nice deep shade of tan, and Nathan handed the younger man a bottle sunscreen and admonished him to put it on everywhere he could reach, and he'd do the kid's back. Dunne looked a bit embarrassed for a minute at the thought of Nathan rubbing lotion on him, but the memory of the sunburn he'd gotten when the group rented a houseboat and spent the weekend on Blue Mesa Reservoir back home had him reaching for the bottle the medic held. Feeling like a boiled lobster and then peeling off great sheets of dead skin like a snake shedding was enough to make an impression on even him.

Once they were settled in, the men sipped their beers for a bit and checked out the people around them, nodding in response to smiles, waves, and other forms of greeting that were dispensed in their direction. The woman who had looked Josiah over when the group first arrived had not so discreetly moved her towel and umbrella to a spot nearby, so the ex-preacher volunteered to watch the stuff while the rest went swimming. The six others grinned and let loose with snickers, Buck going so far as to slap the profiler on the shoulder and wish him some of the Wilmington luck. The brunette the ladies' man had made eye contact with earlier was now conveniently strolling past on her way to the water. Buck danced up to her and gave his first name, starting a flirtation that made Standish roll his eyes and wonder how any woman fell for those lines.

The rest followed the dark-headed pair, soon wading into the shallow surf and beginning to swim further out. Nathan and Chris both kept a vigilant eye on everyone, still not trusting that trouble wouldn't find them.

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Trouble did rear its head a couple of hours later, but not in the way either Chris or Nathan had expected.

The medic had just waded ashore to go take Josiah's place guarding their things so that the older man could swim, when he heard distinctive sounds from one of the sunbathers he was walking past.

Turning, Jackson quickly located the person, who was bent over a metal trash can being violently sick and shaking almost as if he was having a seizure. His skin was clammy to the touch and faintly bluish-tinged. On top of the vomiting, he also appeared to be having trouble breathing.

Concerned, Nathan yelled for the lifeguard to call paramedics, then he went to work doing what he could to help. Fortunately the response team was close, so it was only minutes before they were taking over and rushing the man to the hospital.

Working on cop instincts, the others had gathered around as well and began asking the people who had witnessed the action if they had any idea what had happened.

One mentioned that the man in question had gotten several drinks from one of the impromptu concession stands, and had started saying he didn't feel so good after the third or fourth one.

Searching, Chris and Vin found several plastic cups that had a strong alcohol smell and a sticky residue inside them. Asking a lady nearby for a couple of the zip-lock baggies she had her lunch in, the two agents turned the containers inside out and then carefully bagged the cups. Asking the lifeguard to call the local authorities, they discussed quietly among themselves what might have happened. The most logical conclusion was that the drinks the man had consumed were either laced with something, or he was showing signs of alcohol poisoning.

When the patrol unit arrived, Chris introduced himself and his team and then turned over the cups so that they could be tested. The ingredients of the drink might help the medical personnel determine what treatment the victim needed or at least the cause of his illness.

Thanking the seven, the cops started to go. When Nathan asked if they could call him and let him know what the results were and how the man was, the older officer nodded and took the medic's cell number. He also got Larabee's, since they might need statements from the team if it was discovered the drinks had been doctored with something.

Once the local LEOs had gone, the group was silent for a few minutes. Looking around, they made note of where the alcohol vendors were and tried to get at least basic descriptions. However one or two that the men had seen when they arrived were already gone from their places. The rest appeared to be packing up since the man getting sick had dampened people's enthusiasm for the unknown drinks and a couple of the lifeguards were going around checking the materials the unlicensed purveyors were using.

Deciding that there was nothing else they could do to help at the moment, the men went back to their beach activities.

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The group had enjoyed the rest of the day, and were back at their resort when Nathan and Chris both got calls from the local police.

The hospital had determined that the man the medic had helped did indeed have alcohol poisoning, but it wasn't just from drinking too much. The liquor that his drinks had been mixed with was apparently home-made and toxic. They now had several other people in ER or admitted that showed the same symptoms. No one had gotten anything but first names and general descriptions of the two men who had been dispensing the alcohol in the cocktails, so the cops had no real leads at the moment.

Nathan's call was to report on the original patient's condition and to relate the cause of the illness. Chris' was from the local police chief. The man relayed the results of the tests on the residue in the cups Larabee and Tanner had collected, and explained about not having enough to track down the drink sellers. The blond brows rose next when the man asked if the seven could come by his office, he had something he wanted to discuss with them.

Thinking maybe the man wanted to see if they remembered anything useful or had gotten pics with the sellers faces in them, Chris agreed that they would swing by the next morning after breakfast. Jotting down directions, the leader hung up.

"What's up, Chris?" asked Buck a bit nervously. The solemn expression on the lean form's face made him a bit tense. This was supposed to be their vacation, but experience had taught all of them that they could find as much trouble then as at work.

"Chief wants us to come by in the morning and see him. He wants to talk to us about something."

"Probably wants to see if we saw anything useful, or maybe got something in some photos that will help." Josiah offered, trying to be optimistic.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking…hoping anyway. They're trying to contact any other beachgoers to check their phones, but since you don't exactly sign in at a public beach, it's gonna be hard unless the lifeguards know some of the regulars by full name. And they can't go on the news and ask people to voluntarily come in, since that would also tip off the men who were selling the drinks."

It was quiet for a few minutes as the seven of them pondered the situation, but the silence was broken by Vin's stomach rumbling loudly.

"Ain't much we can do 'til we talk to the man except go through our pictures, so I say let's go eat!"

Laughing, the rest quickly agreed. They changed out of their swimwear and in less than an hour were ready to go. Each one made sure they had their phones so they could all compare snapshots that they'd taken at the beach earlier, and JD had brought his laptop so they planned to upload and enhance anything that looked promising.

Pleased with the plan, they headed out the door.

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About nine o'clock the next morning, all seven members of the team walked into the police headquarters. The innate air of power, danger, and authority they radiated made even seasoned officers step out of their way as they strode to the front desk, badges resting in their belts so that they were readily visible.

Chris told the cop behind the counter that they had an appointment with the chief and the woman nodded. Reaching for the phone, she punched a button and waited, brown eyes roving over the attractive figures in front of her. Even police officers could appreciate the scenery, she thought with a secret grin. And this view was pretty damn impressive!

When the chief answered, she told him he had visitors from the ATF. He immediately asked her to have someone show them to his office. She hung up and motioned to another cop nearby. Explaining what she needed, the man easily agreed to show the agents the way. Chris had to say Wilmington's name twice to get the tall man's attention away from the pretty officer he was now attempting to flirt with, but the impatience in the second one got through and the lanky brunet trotted after the rest of the group as they headed down a hallway.

The agents drew their usual amount of attention as they followed the local cop. Their looks and the aura that surrounded them always made an impression, and the fact that they were almost all dressed in jeans and several wore cowboy boots made them rather distinctive for the locale. A few observers got somewhat nervous looks on their faces, since the locals' interactions with federal agents didn't always go smoothly. The formidable look of the whipcord blond in the lead however was enough to keep anyone from commenting even in a whisper.

Reaching the door with the chief's name on it, their guide beat a hasty retreat. The men had been polite and mostly quiet, but something about them made the young officer feel somewhat inadequate and a little like a rookie meeting the commissioner. There was that same air of authority and power, especially with the leader. The cop had a feeling these seven men didn't bow to anybody, even of higher rank. Wishing he knew their names so he could look them up, he decided as he moved back down the hall that he'd ask Melissa at the desk. Maybe the blond had at least given her his name…

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Less than fifteen minutes later, all seven of the ATF agents were staring at the chief with various expressions of disbelief on their faces. Wilmington was the only one that didn't look rather dismayed as well. In fact a grin of anticipation curved the tall explosives expert's lips.

"Ya want us to pose as _what_?" asked Tanner incredulously. He must have heard the chief of police wrong. Ezra was actually speechless for a moment and Josiah had his finger in his ear as if making sure something wasn't distorting sounds for him. Nathan just sat with his eyes and mouth wide in shock, while JD was turning pink just at the thought. Chris was giving the chief one of the stares that sometimes made other men loose bodily fluids and usually caused even AD Travis to start trying to placate the imposing blond.

The look had pretty much the same effect on the police chief, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he repeated himself.

"Lifeguards. At the beach where the bad alcohol was distributed." Before Larabee could say anything, he hurried on. "We haven't gotten any solid leads on the sellers yet, since no one's pictures showed the men's faces, and if I put any of our people there, the suspects will more than likely recognize them. We can't really ask beachgoers to tip us off when they show up without saying why and causing a panic."

"Surely you can get someone from a neighboring precinct or force?"

Standish had recovered his speech but was still confused why the chief was asking them to go undercover. Not that the idea bothered him as such, but they were supposed to be on vacation and it wasn't a difficult assignment. Any competent officer should be able to handle it as long as they had appropriate first-aid training and could swim well. Basic rescue techniques could be taught in a reasonably short period of time, and there would be real lifeguards on hand if a serious emergency should arise.

"We could." answered the chief "But it would take a little while to get someone and then make sure they had adequate training. Several people could get sick in that time if the sellers set up again today. Since you didn't buy any of the tainted alcohol, they shouldn't have paid much attention to you. And even if they did notice you, hopefully they'll just think you were on your day off and enjoying the beach as swimmers, not guards."

The older man then got an impressed look on his face.

"Besides, I checked you out when the patrol officers turned in their report yesterday." The dark eyes settled on Chris. "You and Agent Wilmington were SEALs , Special agent Larabee, so you are more than qualified to act as lifeguards. Agent Jackson is a trained medic, and you have an excellent arrest and conviction record as a team. Plus you're right here. I realize you're on vacation, but it would be a tremendous help if you could do this for just a few days. The force will compensate you with your normal pay while you're working, plus I'll personally pick up the tabs for all your meals during that time. If the sellers set up as expected, it shouldn't take but a day or two to find them. We don't even know if they're doing it deliberately or if it's just an unfortunate accident. But we do need to stop their sales and question them, and the quicker the better."

It was quiet for a few minutes as the agents considered the proposal. Chris glanced at each of his men in turn and they answered without the leader having to actually voice a question.

Nathan was the first to speak.

"He's right, Chris. The sooner we find these guys and confiscate their supply, the safer folks will be. Don't think my conscience will let me say no and risk someone else gettin' sick while the chief gets someone 'sides us."

Buck was next. "Nate's right pard. And so's Chief Daniels… you and I are well qualified. Hell we were both lifeguards as teenagers, 'fore we ever even thought 'a joinin' the teams. Plus Nathan's taught us all first-aid, and we're all good swimmers, even the Kid."

"You just wanna give some pretty lady mouth-to-mouth, Buck." mumbled JD. However the youngest also nodded at Chris. "But I'm with Nate too. I'd hate myself if someone else got sick just cause we didn't want our vacation interrupted."

"Reckon a couple 'a days won't hurt none." opined Vin softly.

Ezra and Josiah voiced their agreement as well. Larabee turned back to the man behind the desk.

"All right Chief. Guess you've got your new lifeguards." The blond then gave a bit of a grimace. "But do we have to wear those neon orange swim trunks?"

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A couple of hours later, the seven were once again sanding at the entrance to the beach. The chief had set them up as visiting lifeguards who had traded with some of the local guards as a sort of training exercise to allow them to get used to different water conditions. And to placate Larabee, he'd gotten the men ebony trunks with neon green reflective stripes down the outside seams.

The handsome leader wore a relatively contented expression on his face at the substitution, and the dark hue was definitely attractive on the well-muscled, bronzed body of the blond. Without his shirt, the impressive arm, chest, and back muscles were clearly visible, proving that the lean appearance was somewhat deceptive when he was fully clothed. His blond hair was glinting in the dancing rays of sunshine through the palms, and dark sunglasses hid the piercing gaze but drew attention to his sculpted mouth and attractive facial structure.

The others had accepted the dark hue of the swimsuits as well, even though it would probably be a bit hotter. The trunks were brief enough that it wouldn't make much difference, and they were actually eye-catching on all of the men.

Ezra was actually rather pleased, since the green stripe suited his coloring well and the swimwear was fitted to his physique. His chestnut hair and green eyes looked good with the golden tan he sported, and he was still getting to spend the afternoon at the beach. Flexing his well-toned muscles, he did a few stretches to get the kinks out that the crash training course had induced. His skin looked almost lustrous with the sunscreen Nathan had insisted they all use, and his hair was curling a bit as it dried from the water training the group had just finished.

Vin's appearance would have been as surprising to those who had only seen him in his layers of clothing as Larabee's was. Deeply tanned six-pack abs rippled down his lean chest, and his thighs and biceps were sleek and well-muscled as he leaned against a palm tree waiting for the local lifeguards who were supposed to meet them and assign them their spots. His sandy hair brushed his shoulders, the breeze blowing the damp stands away from his chiseled face. His striking gaze was searching the beachgoers to see if any of the alcohol vendors were among them.

Buck was almost preening. While the ladies' man knew the assignment was serious, he also knew the dark swimsuit complemented his black hair and deep tan. Like the leader and sniper, his lean form was somewhat deceptive. Broad shoulders topped a well-muscled chest, slim rider's hips, and impressive long legs. While normally lanky looking, at the moment he was displaying what a hunk of manhood he was. The dark blue eyes glittered in the light above the easy smile he wore.

The ebony swim trunks flattered Nathan as well. The medic's dark skin looked almost satiny and glistened in the rays of the sun that drifted between the palm fronds above him. He'd put on liberal sunscreen to help mitigate the prolonged exposure he'd be experiencing, and the lotion had given him a light sheen that was actually very attractive. Bare-chested, his impressive muscles drew attention to how formidable a man he truly was. His eyes looked serious as he mentally ran through the first-aid techniques that might be needed.

Beside him, Josiah was looking impressive as well. The profiler's well-honed muscles rippled as he stretched and moved, trying to work out any residual stiffness from the training exercises they'd been through. While not lengthy, the lessons had been thorough, and he had realized how much stamina it could take to move a body that was simulating dead weight. He got plenty of exercise, as proven by the rippling abs and massive biceps, but the rescue techniques used his muscles in a different way than he was used to. However, the experience had left him eager to try out his skills if needed, and Chris and Buck had given him some tips on towing an unresponsive swimmer, etc. His gaze was bright above his strong jaw, and his slightly graying hair was combed back in neat waves that were still slightly damp, making him as eye-catching as the others.

JD was adjusting his trunks, since the swimsuit was shorter and not as baggy as his usual swimwear. The smaller brunet was mumbling about looking like an 'old man' in the trunks even though he actually was quite attractive, if the once-over of a nearby girl was any indication. Of course, the comment earned him a glare from Chris, a slap to the back of the head by Buck, a low growl from Josiah, a raised eyebrow from Vin, a warning from Nathan, and a supercilious glance from Ezra.

Not as obviously muscled as his older teammates, he was however fit and athletic looking, belying the image a lot of people had of a video-game geek. Jackson had insisted the fair-complexioned computer tech especially slather himself with sunscreen, so his skin still had a damp sheen to it that was actually attractive. His long, dark hair was currently hanging in his eyes, but would get slicked back when he got to his assigned lifeguard spot. Lighter than the rest, with skin that usually tended to turn pink rather than tan deeply, he would have to stay in the shelter of the 'shack' that he would be stationed at to keep from looking like a lobster before the day was over.

Just then, the local lifeguards came walking toward the group, so they gathered up their stuff and strode to meet them.

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By the second afternoon, the Denver ATF agents were beginning to wonder if their quarry had gotten scared and decided not to come to the beach again. They had handed out aloe to several women who were suspiciously pink, but not seriously sunburned; given demonstrations of how to do CPR; rescued some kids' toys that floated too far out; Nathan had performed the Heimlich on a man who was choking on a piece of hot dog; and Chris and Buck had actually towed in a teenager who swam too far out and then got too tired to get back to shore.

But as far as see their alcohol suspects, no sign of them had been spotted as of three o'clock on the second day of their duties.

Various females from pre-teen to their fifties took turns congregating around the guard shacks that the men were using. The men tried to be polite, yet still keep an eye out for the drinks vendors they were looking for and anyone who needed help.

The crowd of women seemed to continually get larger as the ones at the beach called their friends and told them they had to come see the new lifeguards.

Buck was in his element, though the ebullient brunet was paying attention for when he was actually needed as well. However that didn't mean he didn't respond happily to all the questions, flirtatious advances, and requests to put lotion on for a rather impressive number of lovely females.

The ladies around Ezra's station were all asking questions just so they could listen to the southerner's smooth, honeyed voice. Most had a dreamy look in their eyes that the undercover agent found flattering, yet he had to occasionally remind them that he _was_ on duty. Some were actually tripping over each other to get the gambler's emerald-eyed attention.

Vin seemed to have an inordinate number of women twisting their ankle or getting leg cramps, so that the handsome Texan had to help them to their chairs or blankets or rub their calves for them until the 'ache' subsided. They all seemed infatuated with his soft drawl and were now coming up with all sorts of oddball comments just to get him to talk and flirting with him to see his smile.

Nathan seemed to be getting an unusual amount of queries about heat exhaustion, how long one should stay out of the water after eating, and complaints of possible dehydration. The medic handed out bottles of water, answered questions, and felt of foreheads to see if they were too hot, etc. Amazingly enough, most of the 'possible' ailments turned out to be false alarms.

Josiah had a bevy of women around his age, as well as a few younger ones, clustered around him. Several of them seemed to suddenly have gotten rather frail and need help getting up or down or support as they walked back out of the shallow waves. The big profiler was obliging, also dispensing information or reading signs for women that seemed to have misplaced their glasses. The actions mostly seemed to be aimed at just getting him to talk so they could hear his deep baritone.

JD had girls from 12 to their twenties around his location. The youngest of the 'lifeguards' was explaining how the radios the group had worked, fixing suddenly malfunctioning ear buds and phones, and climbing up to retrieve Frisbees and beach balls that seemed to keep landing on top of the stand he occupied. Like Buck he was also asked to rub sunscreen on several young ladies' backs, causing him to go a bright pink that made the girls giggle.

The women around Chris' position were the most daring of the lot. In spite of the innate dangerous aura the blond possessed, the sand around him was hardly visible for the ladies who were stretched out on towels looking up at him, or sitting on chairs nearby. He had to politely request that several move from the steps of the small stand he occupied, so that if he needed to leave quickly he wouldn't trip over them. He was asked questions about rip tides, how far out was safe to go, and what sort of creatures were in the water. He gave reassurances that there weren't any sharks in the area, and helped a rather amazing number of women who were suddenly overcome by exhaustion or had twisted an ankle while wading back to shore and needed a strong arm to support them or even a powerful form to carry them to their blankets or chairs. The phrase 'drop-dead gorgeous' seemed to be on a lot of lips as the ladies watched the graceful form move.

The men all had their radios on and the other six were laughing as they listened to Buck, who was just trying to garble out an answer to a slender male with a falsetto voice who had asked him to put lotion on his back for him when Vin spied the alcohol vendors they were looking for. He alerted the others and Chris quickly signaled for the regular lifeguards to come take their places as he and the sniper slowly began to move toward the two men just setting up folding tables in front of several coolers.

Buck had relief in his voice as he made his excuses to the guy holding out the sunscreen bottle toward him. The tall figure handed his radio to the lifeguard who had just approached and started casually ambling toward the impromptu drink stand.

The others spread out in a semi-circle so they could cut off any avenues of escape. There was no place to hide their guns and they didn't want to panic the beachgoers by carrying them openly, so they left their weapons under the care of the local lifeguards.

The two sellers suddenly noticed the three forms converging on their location. They looked nervously around, but couldn't see any place to go where one of the men wouldn't get them.

Arriving within a few yards, Chris called out for them to stay in place, that they needed to talk to them and check their drink ingredients. Both looked somewhat surprised at the statement, and one of them nodded in agreement.

The other however suddenly panicked and took off at a run toward the surf, dodging sunbathers on towels and jumping over coolers and tote bags in his effort to get away from the formidable figures closing in on his partner.

Vin looked at Chris with raised brows. "Reckon where he thinks he's gonna go when he hits the water?"

Broad shoulders gave a brief shrug as he motioned Tanner to watch the remaining vendor. The powerful form then took off at a run, waving Buck to join him and flank the man.

The ladies' man veered his direction and sprinted toward the waterline on the far side of Chris. The suspect looked over his shoulder and saw the two impressive figures gaining on him, so he waded out into the water and then started swimming.

Chris shook his head at the man's stupidity and followed him, long legs sending spray out around him. Reaching chest-high depth, the blond made a smooth dive into the water and moved with sure strokes, cutting through the turquoise liquid like a knife through butter. Beside him, Buck did the same while Ezra and Josiah ran down to wait by the water's edge in case they were needed.

The fleeing vendor had no idea that his pursuers were former SEALs and that they could swim much longer and much faster than he could.

Chris caught up to him in only a few minutes and called for him to stop, identifying himself as a federal agent. When the man only put on a burst of speed, Chris made a motion for Buck to tread water. The lean form then dove under and unbeknownst to his quarry, swam under him. Suddenly popping up in front of the man, one long arm reached out and grabbed him by the neck. Now scared and tired, the vendor tried to pull Chris under. Sculpted lips twitched up in a one-sided grin that almost resembled a smirk, then the talented diver let himself sink into the warm seawater. Once a foot or so down, he reached out and grabbed the other man around the waist. Pulling him down as well, he turned loose with one arm and sent a punch toward the figure's jaw.

Even underwater, Larabee's aim was unerring and the powerful hit made the man go boneless in his hands.

Pulling the limp form back to the surface, the blond started towing the insensate man toward the shore. Buck came up beside him, watching his oldest friend's back in case the suspect came to before they reached the beach.

As it turned out, the man didn't start stirring until Chris had him laid out on the sand. When the prone form opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his pursuer standing over him with a scary smile on his face. A 9mm now rested in the wet hand and it was pointed right between his eyes.

"You're under arrest for attacking a federal officer, and unlicensed sale of alcohol. All we originally wanted to do was speak to you and your partner, but now you'll be doing your talking from jail no matter what we find out about the liquor that you've been using."

The hand holding the pistol never wavered, but the free one made a circular motion. "Roll over on your stomach, and put your hands behind your back. And I wouldn't think about tryin' to run…or swim… away again. I'll just shoot you this time."

Wilmington chortled from where he stood at Chris' shoulder. "Ya should 'a just stayed put when he told ya to. Ol' Chris don't suffer fools too well, especially ones that try to drown him." The explosives tech laughed again. "Not that ya were gonna hurt him by pushin' him underwater. Chris can hold his breath longer than it took ta tote your sorry ass back to shore."

Handcuffs magically appeared in the big man's hands from somewhere. Gazing up into the feral smirk of the icy-eyed figure with the gun, the prone form decided to do as he was told this time. The blond reminded him of a big cat who was toying with its prey, and suddenly he didn't want to know what happened when the predator decided play time was over.

Once Buck had the still groggy suspect in cuffs and on his feet, Vin brought the other man down. Nathan had called for a patrol unit and he and JD had secured the vendors' merchandise while Josiah and Ezra reassured the beachgoers and briefly explained what was going on.

The one who hadn't tried to run willingly answered the men's questions. Turned out the pair had just started distilling their own alcohol in an old still they'd bought at a flea market. They had no idea that the equipment had been used for other purposes and was leaching old chemicals into the brew every time they used it.

The team was pleased to find out that at least there was no intent to make people sick. The one who had cooperated would probably not face any serious punishment as long as all the victims recovered. The other would be charged with federal crimes, but would more than likely get probation if it was his first offense. Chris' whispered warning of what would happen if he did something like that again made the man look like he was going to be sick, and he vigorously promised that he wouldn't ever repeat the actions. For some reason, he felt as if the blond would know no matter how much distance was between them.

The patrol unit arrived within a few minutes and took the two men into custody. The chief himself arrived to personally make sure all the alcohol was confiscated. He assured Larabee that he would make sure the still was destroyed and the liquor disposed of properly, telling the senior agent that he and his team could come supervise to insure that the actions were carried out as promised.

The news about what was happening had circulated along the beach, and once the cops had hauled everything away, a crowd gathered around the seven agents. Clapping and cheers erupted as they started trying to work their way to the lifeguard stands to get their stuff.

Chris and Buck were still wet, droplets of water catching the sun and glinting on toned pecs and abs as they walked. A few drops ran down Larabee's chest, rippling over the tight muscles and disappearing into the band of his clinging swimsuit. Both men had slicked their damp hair back, but a lock on each fell onto their foreheads, causing several watching women to want to run their fingers through the sexy strands.

The rest of the team wore a sheen of perspiration from being in the sun all day, a couple of them looking almost as if they'd been oiled. While sweat normally didn't sound appealing, more than a few ladies were wishing they could slid their palms over the moist skin that was glistening in the light.

When they reached the first guard shack, the group paused to thank the crowd for making their stint as lifeguards memorable and flattering. They lined up to shake hands, offer last bits of advice, and answer questions. A few more ladies smilingly complained of sore muscles or leg cramps or held out bottles of lotion.

All seven chuckled at the ploys and requests. When asked if they could really do mouth-to-mouth, they each nodded and gave a dazzling smile.

Seven women directly in front of them looked almost dumb-struck at the gorgeous sight, and then with theatrical moans slid to the ground, truly breathless for the moment.

Green, blue, hazel, and brown gazes met, and then with wicked grins the handsome men went to one knee at the same time and leaned down to see if they could give the 'kiss of life' to the willing ladies at their feet.

Looked like it was going to be a good vacation after all!

By DMA


End file.
